


Eggshells

by LittleLinor



Category: Shin Megami Tensei: Devil Survivor
Genre: Breathplay, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Overlord!Protag, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-26 23:50:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16691299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLinor/pseuds/LittleLinor
Summary: You let him wrap hands around your neck





	Eggshells

**Author's Note:**

> Reposted from tumblr  
> Don't do this at home, etc, etc

You let him wrap hands around your neck, and if you’re being completely honest, it’s as much for yourself as it is for him.  
You trust him, of course. You want him to know that, that he can squeeze all he wants and you won’t fight back, because you know he’ll always stop himself in time (and even if he didn’t, you’ve become hard to kill, although that’s irrelevant). But you want to prove it to yourself too, you want to test the strength of your trust and the depth of your bond. And you want to see how far he’s ready to go.  
You want to know if he’ll break.  
(You wonder if he knows, that you had loved him even then, that what had torn your naive, entitled heart with despair and betrayal and incomprehension had been not his actions but his hate. You wonder if  _you_ ’ll break)

The feeling of his fingers on your neck is familiar. Thin and bony and surprisingly strong, you know their touch by now, because they always find their way back there somehow, caressing or holding or just resting. The lightest press of his thumb against your throat is enough to make part of your body feel like you’re choking already. It makes you burn with excitement. Both thumbs, now, and the rest of his fingers circling your neck. You curl your back, let the movement pull on your bound wrists above your head.  
You tilt your head back and bare him your throat.

He squeezes, and you feel pain before anything actually locks down. Your breathe through your nose, slowly, trying to catch the exact moment in which you’re cut off and—there it is, and you would whine, but you shudder instead, a grating wave rushing through your entire body. You arch into him and open your eyes, take in the not-so-cold expression in his. Closed down to process his feelings, but you feel them in the way his hands stay clenched on your neck. He’s like an open book to you now, because you’ve always understood him better than anyone else, but now you know what makes him click, what shaped his patterns, what he’s cultivated inside himself when nothing else would grow. He’s clinging and challenging, challenging you to back down before he does, to prove that he’s not safe after all, not worthy of love after all.

But by now you have your own answer, because inside the vice grip of his hands, you feel  _safe_ , and you would laugh if you could. Instead you let your body shudder with the lack of air and smile, abandon yourself to his hands, and let him prove your point for you.

You know he will cave, and you know he could break, but you won’t let him do that without catching all the pieces and putting them back into something that’s finally whole.


End file.
